Rookie Read online

  ROOKIE

  Saffron Bryant

  Copyright 2018 Saffron Bryant

  Published by Saffron Bryant at Smashwords

  Smashwords Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favourite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  DEAR READER

  http://www.saffronbryant.com/free-books

  CHAPTER ONE

  Nova wiped a sheen of sweat from her forehead and tugged hard on the wrench to tighten the final bolt. The smell of engine oil and grease, and the sounds of tools clinking and engines revving filled the garage.

  “Is that it?” she said.

  Her Class 4 Laborbot—Cal, as she called him—hovered just to the left of her shoulder. His spherical metal body, just bigger than her head, whirred as it bobbed in the hot air. The single camera lens that functioned as his eyes swiveled in on the engine.

  “Confirmed,” he said. “All appears functional.”

  Nova nodded and wiped her greasy hands on her stained overalls. Oppressive heat surrounded her and it felt as though she spent every day drenched in sweat. The planet—Hassard—was nothing but a hot, sandy sauna. That was the problem with deserts; too hot to breathe and sand that found its way into everything. As soon as she had the money, she would move to a nice, cool planet where she didn’t feel the need to shower four times a day.

  “Why don’t you just get the laborbot to do the work for you?” said another mechanic. He knelt in front of a sand-buggy and a streak of grease stained his right cheek. “That’s what I’d do if I was lucky enough to have a laborbot like that.”

  “He’s not a slave,” Nova said.

  “We’re a team,” Cal said. Nova tried not to groan—she might have a special affection for Cal, but sometimes he said the most awkward things.

  “It’s damn weird is what it is,” the mechanic said, bending back to his work.

  Nova ignored the comments from the other mechanics. They might think Cal was strange because sometimes he didn’t act entirely like a robot, but that was their problem. Cal was one of the best friends she’d ever had, robot or otherwise.

  The ship she’d been working on—a Falcon-X—was one of the biggest in the garage. It had been a pile of trash when the new owner had dropped it off two weeks ago, but Nova had poured every spare second into making it go again and now it would out-fly almost anything.

  Good. She needed the money. Her rent was due by midnight and she’d heard enough rumors about her landlord—Leshi—that she would not risk late payment. So far, it seemed that no matter how hard she worked, it always felt as though she was only just keeping her head above water. But the money for repairing the Falcon-X would fix that.

  “Right,” she said. “Let’s go get paid.”

  She grabbed a filthy towel from a nearby bench and did her best to clean the grime from her face and hands; although, the towel was so dirty it probably left more muck than it took away. Her shoulders ached from working on the ship all day and her neck hurt from having to bend down to look under the main engines. But she relished the pain; it was evidence of work she enjoyed, and it sure beat her time trying to scrape by on Tabryn.

  Six months she’d been free of her home planet, with her own ship—Crusader—and Cal at her side. Sure, she had to work hard to pull money together to pay for Crusader’s parking, but she felt freer than she ever had before.

  She marched toward the back of the garage to the offices, Cal hovering just behind.

  A rusted sign hung above the entrance ‘Koba’s Garage’.

  Nova knocked once and pushed the door open. A wall of cool air hit her and chilled the sweat on her skin. Koba refused to spend credits on keeping the air-conditioner in the main garage working, but here in his office he always managed to keep the desert heat at bay.

  Koba’s extra rolls of flesh hung over the sides of his enormous chair, not quite contained by the too-tight shirt he wore. His pants sat too low—Nova had seen him bend over far too many times since starting work at the garage—and he gave off a sickly-sweat smell; cheap cologne and too much after-shave. He didn’t look up from the digital display on his desk.

  Nova stood just inside the door and fidgeted. The less time she wasted standing in Koba’s office the better; she needed to get back to her ship and search for more Bounty Hunter jobs. She had to get out there and start making a name for herself—she hadn’t left Tabryn with her very own space ship just so she could be a mechanic for the rest of her life. She wanted to travel, explore things. And one day, maybe, she’d be accepted into the legendary Bounty Hunter guild: The Jagged Maw. But right now that was a pipe-dream because you had to do something really special to get noticed by The Jagged Maw, and fixing broken-down spaceships wasn’t it.

  She cleared her throat.

  Koba rolled his eyes and looked up.

  “The Falcon is finished; ready to fly.”

  “And about time too!” Koba said.

  Nova pushed down a sharp response; she could hold her tongue for a few more minutes, at least until he paid her.

  “I assume you’re here to take my money then?”

  “For my pay, yes.”

  Koba scowled but pulled a credstick from his desk and tossed it to Nova. She caught it mid-air and turned to go, but then she saw the number displayed on the side.

  “This is only two hundred.”

  “Yes,” Koba said.

  “You promised me three hundred for fixing the Falcon.”

  “Two weeks ago. You expect to be paid as much when you took so long?”

  “You told me it just needed an oil change; the whole engine had to be replaced!”

  Koba shrugged. “Your pay is based on delivery time. I docked a hundred for the extra week.”

  “You can’t do that.” Rage and panic swelled in Nova’s stomach and fought for control. She needed the full three hundred. She’d been counting on it in order to pay her rent. Koba couldn’t just decide to pay her less.

  Koba raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

  “You can’t do that. You owe me another hundred.” She tried to keep her voice steady.

  Koba’s expression darkened. “You came here, begged me for work, and then you dare to complain?”

  “You promised me three hundred! I put every hour into fixing that ship. If I’d known you weren’t going to pay me, I would have spent my time somewhere else!”

  “Maybe next time you’ll make sure you
deliver on time.”

  “If you’d told me what was wrong with it, instead of lying—”

  Koba held up his hands. “I was just passing on what the client told me. It’s not my fault if there was slightly more wrong with it. Besides, that doesn’t account for the mess you made.”

  Nova faltered. “What?”

  Koba flicked his hand toward the door and the garage beyond. “The mess. All that oil everywhere.”

  “It’s a garage…”

  “Regardless. As if the wasted time wasn’t bad enough, I’m going to have to have someone clean the mess too.”

  Something inside Nova snapped. “You slimy bastard; I’ve done nothing but good work for you and this is how you repay me?”

  “Careful, Nova,” Koba said. “Or you might find I don’t have work for you tomorrow.”

  “Do you honestly think I’d ever come and work for you again? You thieving, lying—”

  “Get out,” Koba said.

  Nova took a step forward, chest heaving. “Not without my money.”

  “It’s not your money; it’s my money. And if you don’t leave right now, I’ll call the authorities in and I can guarantee they won’t take your side.”

  Nova found it hard to breathe and impossible to speak. She wanted to yell and scream and force the credits out of Koba’s hands, but she couldn’t. He was right about one thing: most of the authorities were in his pocket in one way or another and they wouldn’t care if Koba had underpaid her. They’d throw her out regardless, and probably give her a few bruises to remember the lesson.

  Nova spun before she did something they’d both regret, and stormed out of the office. A few of the mechanics stood outside—they’d obviously heard the exchange—and watched Nova go with expressions of pity. But none of them said anything. She couldn’t blame them; if they showed sympathy, they risked losing their jobs or not getting paid, and none of them could afford it.

  Cal hovered at her side as she burst out of the garage and into the unforgiving glare of the Hassard desert.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Nova squinted against the bright sunlight and the glare that reflected from the surrounding sand. Noise assaulted her from all directions—mostly people haggling at the stalls that lined every street. The planet—Hassard—was a major trading hub, and when she’d left Tabryn, she’d figured it would be a good place to get work. Unfortunately, every other misfit in the galaxy had come to the same conclusion so the number of people looking for work far outnumbered the available jobs. Still, she’d managed to land a job with Koba because she was good at fixing things. But now…

  She kicked the sand and sent up a spray which pattered back down on the worn path between the stalls. Nearby, a camel snorted at her, as if annoyed that she’d disturbed its desert. The camels were everywhere; Hassard camels. Some mutation of old Earth stock; they looked like regular camels except they were twice as strong and could carry twice as much—perfect for carting all the goods across the Hassard desert, if you didn’t have the money to spend on a ship.

  Nova didn’t trust the beasts; she’d been spat on one too many times for that. Animals were unpredictable, emotional; she’d rather a ship or a robot any day.

  Her gaze traveled away from the camel and up the street as she racked her brain for ideas. She needed to get the rest of the money, and she needed it today.

  Colored fabric covered most of the stalls, casting meager shade over the shoppers. She sidled into one such patch, but it brought little relief from the glaring sun. There were buildings too, looming above the stalls, but Nova had learned since arriving on Hassard that few people actually used them; the cost of air-conditioning was too high, and so it was better to brave the sun and hope for a breeze than to swelter inside. No wonder all the locals sported deep brown tans, or—in the case of short-term visitors and new arrivals like Nova—bright red sunburn.

  What the hell was she supposed to do now?

  She briefly considered turning around and marching back to confront Koba, but what good would that do? She was a nobody, and he was one of the most powerful business owners in the district.

  “I warned you not to work with him,” said a high-pitched voice from Nova’s side.

  She glanced down to see Axel staring up at her with huge, brown eyes. She couldn’t even remember how she’d first met the street urchin—he’d probably come begging for credits or something similar. But now he popped up most days, usually with some annoying piece of advice. Maybe if he spent less time bothering her and more time looking for work, he wouldn’t be so skinny.

  Nova scowled. “News doesn’t travel that fast.”

  Axel shrugged. “I was listening at the back of the office.”

  “Don’t you have something else you could be doing? Like begging on the street corner?”

  He shrugged again. “Slow day.”

  “Well, obviously I don’t have anything for you. So please, go away and let me think.”

  “It’s just one hundred credits.”

  “One hundred credits on rent day.”

  Axel winced. “Today?”

  Nova nodded.

  “I might know some people who could give you work.”

  Nova sighed and studied the young boy. He was probably only ten, although it was hard to tell beneath the layers of dirt and the hardened face. He might think he was helping, but there was nothing he could offer. And besides, once she got indebted to him, he’d find a way to squeeze it out of her and the favor would end up costing her ten times as much.

  “No, thanks,” she said. “I don’t want to owe anybody.”

  “These people aren’t like Koba,” he said. “You’ll have to work for it, but it might be—”

  “No, thank you. I’ll just go to the labor-yards. There is always work going there.”

  Axel frowned. “Have you ever actually been there?”

  “Once.” Although Nova couldn’t really remember it; it had been right after she landed on Hassard after escaping Tabryn and she’d been giddy with excitement and the taste of freedom.

  “You know they’re called ‘The Pens’? You should look for work somewhere else,” Axel said. “The labor-yards aren’t always good.”

  “I need money fast; that’s the best way.” Nova spun and strode down the street in the direction of the labor-yards. Cal hovered at her side but a few seconds later, Axel fell into step beside her.

  “What are you doing?” she said.

  “Going to The Pens with you.”

  “I thought you said they’re not the best place.”

  “Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

  Nova snorted. She still hadn’t worked out Axel’s angle. He bothered to spend time with her every day, so he had to be working up to something big. Maybe he’d try to steal her ship if she let him on board, or he’d try to con her into something. Maybe he planned on stealing her credits. He was wasting his time either way; she’d grown up on streets tougher than those of Hassard and he wouldn’t fool her that easily. In the meantime, she’d let him feed her information, although she’d take it all with a grain of salt and a huge scoop of caution.

  Today, Axel was the least of her worries. If she didn’t find decent work at the labor-yards, she’d have to answer to her landlord—Leshi—and she was far more dangerous than any street urchin.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Nova smelled the labor-yards before she saw them. They reeked of sweat and human waste and desperation; like a cloud that spread its tendrils into the surrounding streets. Next came the noise; like an auction yard for cattle. And finally, she, Cal, and Axel rounded a corner and came onto a cleared area at the edge of the city where the sand had been packed down tight by hundreds of footsteps.

  No wonder people called the place The Pen.

  A chain-link fence surrounded the flattened dirt area, containing a few dozen people—workers—that huddled in groups of twos or threes, and sometimes standing on their own. A few token cloths hung between poles and cast small s
quares of shade. People crowded into the patches of shade like passengers on a sinking ship, jostling to get to the life boat.

  Most of the people sported bruises or injuries and many were missing arms or legs. With little fat to fill them out, their skin clung to their bones and deep shadows surrounded their haunted eyes.

  At the edge of the pen—that’s what it looked like more than anything—beneath thick shade-cloths stood men and women in real clothing, not smeared with dirt or torn. These were the employers and they called out over the huddled masses.

  “I need three. Quarry work. Ten credits for the day,” said a broad-shouldered man. A handful of workers broke away from the shade and pushed and shoved against each other to get to the edge of the pen first. Only the first three got close to the man who’d called out. The rest were held back by burly guards with plasma pistols at their belts. Those who’d been too slow hung their heads. They glanced at the patches of shade where they’d been standing, but already their places had been taken by the press of bodies. Their heads drooped lower and they sat, hunched on the sand near the edge of the pen.

  “Demolition,” called another employer. “Edge of the city. I want a team; you’ll get fifty credits for the whole building.”

  Many of the larger groups surged forward. Two groups of five people each reached the fence at the same time and it looked like a brawl was going to break out, but then the two biggest men—the leaders of each group, Nova assumed—bent their heads together. A few moments later, they shook hands and spoke to the man who’d offered the job. In the end, all ten workers went away with the employer.

  Nova hesitated at the edge of the arena. The people inside looked so desperate, so hopeless. And the ones offering jobs were taking advantage of them. Only fifty credits to demolish a whole building? On any other planet that would have been worth at least three hundred.

  But it wasn’t like she had the time to consider the ethics of the situation. She needed a hundred credits by the end of the day, and if that meant working for next to nothing… well, what other choice did she have?